


Say Goodbye

by midnightfreeway



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Reunions, Vacation, minor OC's - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-23 18:18:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10724646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightfreeway/pseuds/midnightfreeway
Summary: Ten years later, the Grand Prix Final is held in Barcelona again. Yuuri and Victor travel to Spain to see the competition. The trip brings back memories for Yuuri.





	1. Chapter 1

Yuuri feels like he’s gone back in time. Passeig de Gràcia looks exactly as he remembers it, elegant buildings rising towards the sky, festively decorated shop windows shining through the darkness. Christmas shopping is in full swing, the place filled with locals and tourists alike, people hurrying down the streets with shopping bags swaying at their sides. Victor hums along to the Christmas music coming from the stores they pass. Their gloved hands brush against each other as they walk, the touch feather-light and comforting. Yuuri’s heart is light and full at the same time. 

It’s funny, he thinks, looking at the Christmas lights hanging above the street. Just being here is enough to bring back memories of the Grand Prix Final. Yuuri still remembers that time very clearly, the roller coaster of emotions he went through in a matter of three, four days. He feels good right now, calm, but those memories still linger in his mind, thoughts rushing through his head like a flurry of leaves in the wind.

Victor wants to go shopping, of course. Yuuri wanders around the store while Victor tries on cashmere sweaters and immaculately tailored suits, feeling fabrics and checking prices. A saleswoman approaches him with a friendly smile on her face. 

“Can I help you, Sir?” 

“No, thank you,” Yuuri says, smiling. “I’m just waiting for my husband.”

The air outside is crisp and clear, not too cold. Yuuri’s breath forms wispy little clouds in front of his face, his glasses fogged around the edges. He can feel people’s stares on him, some narrowing their eyes as if trying to figure out where they know him from, others smiling in silent greeting. The streets are filled with chatter and laughter and the sounds of traffic. Victor swings their joined hands between them, the smile never leaving his face.

It’s nice, being able to wander the streets like this, with no destination in mind. They haven’t been able to go on vacation for a long time, not like this. They’re both away from home a lot, Victor traveling the world with his skaters and Yuuri for work. None of Victor’s skaters made it to the Grand Prix Final this year; it has been a hot topic in the figure skating community for the last two weeks, causing heated debate on social media. Some people still believe Victor is unfit for the job, despite coaching Yuuri to Olympic gold in 2018. Yuuri is so proud of him; seven years later, and he’s still making an impact on the sport, and loving every second of it.

“You don’t want to buy anything?” Victor asks as they’re walking around in a crowded department store, Victor’s shopping bags rustling in his hands. The clothes are all designer brands, chic and sophisticated and way out of Yuuri’s price range. 

“Not really,” Yuuri says. “I have everything I need. Gifts for my family, your birthday gift—“

Yuuri trails off, a secret smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Victor turns to look at him, eyebrows raised.

“My birthday gift?” 

“Don’t look so surprised,” Yuuri says. “Of course I have a gift for my dear Vitya.”

“Oh, Yuuri,” Victor says, beaming. Nine years of marriage, and he still looks at Yuuri like this, eyes bright and clear and full of warmth. Yuuri looks away with the biggest smile on his face.

He’s looking forward to going home to Hasetsu for the holidays, even if it’s just for a few days. They divide their time between Russia and Japan, spending the winters in St. Petersburg and summers in Hasetsu. They own a house by the sea, just outside the city. Yuuri likes their apartment in St. Petersburg, but the beach house is his favorite place in the whole wide world. He loves it and everything it represents: endless summer nights with Victor, the humid midsummer heat, the screams of seagulls in the distance. 

Later, a candlelit dinner at a fine-dining restaurant with soft piano music playing in the background. Victor’s phone starts ringing while they’re waiting for their food. He answers the phone in English but quickly switches to French, the foreign language rolling off his tongue with effortless ease. Yuuri uses the opportunity to check his own phone. Phichit has posted a delightful picture of the family at an indoor playground, the kids red-faced and grinning and the parents giving a thumbs up to the camera. Yuuri smiles so hard his cheeks hurt.

“The Giacomettis are here,” Victor says, setting the phone down on the table. “They’re planning an early night tonight. Sophie is very tired. Their flight was delayed by two hours.”

“We should head back to the hotel after dinner,” Yuuri says. “Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.”

“Men’s short starts in an hour,” Victor says. “You think we can make it?”

“I hope so. I want to see Yura skate. He’s skating second-to-last, I think.”

“Chris is looking forward to the get-together tomorrow,” Victor says. “He suggested we meet around six. He knows of a good restaurant around here.”

“I’ll let Phichit know,” Yuuri says.

“Should I text Yura? Who knows, we might get an answer right away.”

“I hope not,” Yuuri says, smiling. “He should be getting ready to skate.”

Victor twists the stem of his wine glass between his fingers, a soft smile playing over his lips. Yuuri picks up his phone and composes a message for Phichit.

\--

They still attract attention wherever they go, especially from figure skating fans. It takes Yuuri by surprise every time it happens. He retired from competitive figure skating seven years ago, Victor eight. And people still treat them like celebrities. Yuuri understands the continued interest in Victor; he’s still well-known in the figure skating community, traveling the world with his skaters and appearing on TV and in magazines. But Yuuri – he’s been out of spotlight for years, save for the occasional interview or appearance at a sporting event. And despite that, he receives an overwhelming amount of love from figure skating fans every time he attends a competition as a spectator.

The area around the arena is crowded with cars and people from all over the world. Yuuri and Victor are here for ladies’ free skate, the first senior event of the day. Yuuri looks out the taxi window at the people standing in line to get in, heartbeat picking up in anticipation. The size of the crowd is overwhelming, but at the same time, there’s something comforting about it, the idea that these people share the same passion as he does, that they’re all here because they love figure skating. 

Yuuri slides out of the taxi, heart pounding in his chest. Their plan is to get to the back entrance without attracting too much attention, but of course it doesn’t work out that way. People start staring and whispering right away, some fans smiling and waving and shouting _Victor!_ and _Katsuki-san!_ to get their attention. Many people come up to them, wanting pictures and autographs; fans of all ages and genders and backgrounds, little boys and teenage girls and middle-aged couples. Yuuri makes sure to engage with each person, delighted by their happy faces and sparkling eyes. He poses beside a friendly Japanese woman while her friend takes pictures, an easy smile on his face. Victor is standing on her left side, sporting his most charming smile, honed to perfection from years of practice. 

The warm-up group is on the ice when they get to their seats in the VIP section of the audience. The place is filled with familiar faces, skaters and coaches and ISU officials. Victor is all smiles and small talk as always, making people around him laugh and earning admiring looks from three junior girls sitting in the row behind them. Yuuri gives the girls a friendly smile, and they turn away, blushing and giggling to each other. Yuuri can hear their excited whispers over the chatter of the crowd: _He smiled at me! Did you see that? Yuuri Katsuki smiled at me! Talia is going to be so jealous when she finds out--_

Yuuri pulls out his phone and texts Yuri.

_ladies fs is about to start  
you’re not going to come? ___

__He’s not expecting him to show up or even answer the text. Yuri might be working out, or still asleep at the hotel, Yuuri doesn’t know. Today is his day off._ _

__The warm-up has ended. The first skater glides to the center, arms spread in greeting. Yuuri puts his phone away and leans forward, eyes glued to the skater. She’s small and delicate, only sixteen years old. It has only recently dawned on Yuuri how young most competitive figure skaters are. Almost all Yuuri’s skating friends have left competitive skating, with the exception of Yuri, and even he’s rumored to be retiring soon, after the Olympics. Yuuri doesn’t know whether the rumors are true or not. Yuri is an extremely private person, to the point where even his close friends don’t know all that much about him._ _

__It’s exhilarating, sitting here in the audience, watching others skate. The rink hasn’t changed at all in ten years; it even smells the same, the clean scent of fresh ice heavy in the air. Yuuri looks down at his lap, distracted by memories of the past. He can almost feel the butterflies in his stomach again, the anxiety that would build up in him, making it harder to breathe. He feels like he’s twenty-four again, about to take the ice at this exact rink, in front of thousands of people._ _

__The skater lands a triple axel, and the audience bursts into applause. Yuuri snaps out of his thoughts and turns his attention back to the skater. Victor leans closer to whisper something in his ear._ _

__“Look at the height of her jumps. Especially the opening lutz.”_ _

__“It’s easy for her,” Yuuri whispers back. “She’s so tiny.”_ _

__Victor hums in agreement. “I’m just not convinced by her interpretation. This music doesn’t suit her. It’s too mature for her. She still skates like a junior.”_ _

__“She’s young,” Yuuri says. “She needs more time.”_ _

__“She definitely has potential,” Victor says, and cracks a smile when she slides into her ending pose, joining the audience in applause._ _

__It’s an exciting competition, one great performance after another. Yuuri and Victor sit with their heads together, analyzing the details of each program. There is a standing ovation for a 19-year-old Japanese girl who gives the performance of her life, teary-eyed and trembling as she finishes her program. She ends up winning the entire competition, which makes Yuuri immensely proud. There are a lot of talented skaters in Japan right now, all of them vying for a spot in the Olympic team. Yuuri has worked with some of them, teaching them ways to deal with anxiety and overcome self-doubt. It’s not an easy job, especially because Yuuri sees so much of himself in these struggling young athletes, but it always pays off at some point, and then it’s all more than worth it._ _

__Yuuri pulls out his phone, checks his notifications. Yuri has sent a message ten minutes ago._ _

_____nah i just woke up_  
i’ll watch the stream later today  
is it worth watching? 

__Yuuri taps out a quick message._ _

____definitely__  
see you at the get-together  
you don’t want to miss it 

__Yuri’s reply comes in less than a minute._ _

___i know  
see you there_ _ _

__\--_ _

__The restaurant is spacious and cozy at the same time, decorated with warm colors and wooden floors. They’re a little late, ten or fifteen minutes; traffic was worse than they expected. Yuuri looks around as he makes his way between the tables, heart fluttering in excitement. It’s been almost two years since they last saw each other like this, all four of them and their families. Everybody’s so busy these days, and then there’s the challenge of living far away from each other, in different countries and different continents. This get-together is long overdue, and Yuuri is overjoyed it’s finally happening, right here, right now._ _

__Chris and Phichit are already there with their families, the adults engrossed in a conversation and the kids running around the table, laughing with gleeful delight. Phichit jumps up from his seat when he sees them, his face breaking into a big smile._ _

__“Yuuri and Victor! It’s so good to see you!”_ _

__“It’s been a long time,” Yuuri says, pulling Phichit into a hug._ _

__“I know,” Phichit says. “Thanks for remembering Sawika on her birthday. She now takes her raccoon plush with her everywhere we go.”_ _

__“I’m glad she liked the gift.”_ _

__“She’s very attached to the toy,” Padma says. “We’ve been here for five days, and she still talks about missing it.”_ _

__“How’s the trip been so far?” Yuuri asks, turning towards her. Padma radiates a gentle kindness that makes her easy to like, her eyes big and expressive. Yuuri has always thought she and Phichit make a perfect couple: they’re two wonderful people who share the same passion, the same outlook on life._ _

__“It’s been a lot of fun,” she says. “It’s really nice not to be on a schedule. Usually, when we travel, it’s, well. It’s different.”_ _

__“I know,” Yuuri says. “Touring is tough. I can’t believe you’re still skating in shows. How many years has it been?”_ _

__“I don’t know. Six years, maybe? I don’t travel as much as I used to, for obvious reasons. Right now, I’m just touring with Phichit in Thailand. Just like back in the day.”_ _

__Yuuri is about to take a seat when something bumps into his leg. A little boy is staring up at him, eyes wide and wary._ _

__“Ah!” Yuuri says, beaming, before changing to heavily accented Thai. “Hello, Somsak! How are you?”_ _

__Somsak gives him a shy smile, a mixture of greeting and apology._ _

__Padma leans over to tell her son something in Thai. Yuuri has no idea what she’s saying, but her voice carries a warning tone._ _

__“I can’t believe it,” she continues in English, shaking her head at Yuuri. “We’ve been touring the city all day, and they still have so much energy left.”_ _

__“Someone’s going to sleep well tonight,” Yuuri says, glancing at the three kids on the other side of the table. Sawika is toddling after her brother, her tiny ponytail bouncing on top of her head. Somsak is gesturing wildly to a blonde-haired girl, who appears to be around his age, or maybe a little younger -- Sophie. Despite speaking different languages, they seem to understand each other very well, nodding at each other before breaking into a run again._ _

__Yuuri looks over at Victor, who is talking to Chris and Matt in French. Victor’s smile is wide and genuine, and he’s nodding as he listens to them, eyes flickering between Chris and Matt. Yuuri hears his name mentioned in conversation, and then all three of them glance at him, smiling. Chris and Victor sometimes switch to French when they talk about Yuuri in his presence, just to annoy him. Yuuri is so happy he doesn’t even mind, not this time._ _

__“How are you?” Yuuri asks Phichit. “How’s work?”_ _

__“We’ve been promoting the sport in Thailand,” Phichit says. “And teaching kids how to skate! Complete beginners as well as young, rising stars. It’s been great.”_ _

__“Lots of traveling?”_ _

__“Oh, yeah. Ten different cities. I can’t believe how popular figure skating has become in Thailand. New rinks are popping up here and there across the country.”_ _

__“And it’s all thanks to you,” Yuuri says._ _

__“Aw, hush,” Phichit says, his smile easy and bright. “How about you? Same as always?”_ _

__“Pretty much. I’ve been working non-stop for the last few months.”_ _

__“You spent a few weeks in America, right?”_ _

__“Yeah, and in Canada. I—“_ _

__There is noise behind him, everybody looking towards the entrance, eyes lighting up at the sight. Yuuri turns around in his chair, his lips twitching into a smile when he sees who it is._ _

__“Sorry I’m late,” Yuri says, huffing a little. “Damn traffic. Took me an hour to get here.”_ _

__“Here comes our Grand Prix champion,” Chris says, beaming. “What are the standings after the short program?”_ _

__“Yura is currently in second place,” Victor says, pride apparent in his voice. “Less than two points behind China’s Tsang.”_ _

__“I’ll take him down tomorrow,” Yuri says, flopping down on the nearest chair._ _

__“And we’ll be there to witness it,” Phichit chimes in._ _

__“Just don’t triple your flip like you did yesterday,” Victor says._ _

__“Don’t remind me,” Yuri says, growling. “I got distracted. It’s not going to happen again. I promise.”_ _

__A waitress approaches them, ready to take their order. It takes her a while to write everything down, the kids a little too loud and the adults taking their time deciding what to order. Yuuri almost feels sorry for her, but she seems unfazed by the situation, the smile never leaving her face._ _

__“Too bad there are only four of us here,” Phichit says when the waitress is gone. “It would have been nice to have everyone here, all six finalists of the Grand Prix Final in Barcelona.”_ _

__“Wasn’t Otabek supposed to come?” Yuuri asks._ _

__“That was the plan,” Yuri says. “He couldn’t make it. He’s really busy these days. He works almost every weekend.”_ _

__“He’s still DJ’ing?” Phichit asks._ _

__“Yeah,” Yuri says. “He’s really popular in Almaty.”_ _

__“I really want to see him in action! Have you ever heard him play?”_ _

__“Yeah, a few times. In Moscow.”_ _

__“Anyone know what JJ’s up to these days?” Chris asks._ _

__“I think he’s working for the Canadian Skating Federation,” Phichit says. “I sometimes see him post pictures of himself with young Canadian skaters. I’m not sure what exactly he does, though.”_ _

__“Are you still doing ice shows, Chris?” Yuuri asks._ _

__“Yes. Ice shows and all kinds of promotional events.”_ _

__“That’s pretty impressive. I mean, eight years is a long time.”_ _

__“Well, it’s definitely more tiring now. I’ve been thinking about retiring from the sport completely, but nothing’s decided yet. I still want to be involved in some way, of course, but then again, I also want to spend more time with my family.”_ _

__“I’m sure you’ll come up with something,” Yuuri says._ _

__“Speaking of retirement,” Chris says. “What’s your plan, Yuri? Are the rumors about you retiring after this season true?”_ _

__The whole table goes silent. Everyone’s eyes are on Yuri, whose shoulders are tense, posture stiff and awkward. He appears to be having some kind of internal debate with himself, brow furrowed and jaw clenched._ _

__“Yeah,” he says, after a moment of silence. “I’m pretty sure this season is going to be my last, but only if I medal at the Olympics. I want to retire at the height of my career.”_ _

__“You have been on top your entire career,” Chris says. “Since your junior years.”_ _

__“I haven’t won gold at the Olympics yet,” Yuri says. “I want to go out with a bang.”_ _

__“That’s our Yura,” Victor says, his smile wide and bright._ _

__“Don’t tell anyone about this,” Yuri says. “I’ll make the announcement when the time comes.”_ _

__“No worries,” Chris says. “Your secret is safe with us.”_ _

__Yuuri’s heart swells as he looks around the table. The kids have calmed down, seated beside their parents, occupied with their coloring sheets. Chris is showing Victor pictures on his phone. Yuri is discussing the details of yesterday’s competition with Phichit and Padma. Everybody looks so happy, so excited to be here, thrilled by this long-awaited reunion. Yuuri can’t stop smiling._ _

__“Look at that,” Chris says, arm stretched over the table. “Impressive, isn’t it?”_ _

__“Yes,” Victor says, nodding vigorously, eyes still on Chris’ phone. “Incredible speed.”_ _

__Yuuri cranes his neck to see the screen. “What are you watching?”_ _

__“A video of Sophie skating,” Chris says._ _

__“Has she started taking lessons?”_ _

__“Yes,” Chris says, beaming with paternal pride. “She’s very talented. And committed to the sport! She’d skate every day if we let her.”_ _

__“How old is little Sophie again?” Yuuri asks. He smiles at Sophie; she meets his gaze with timid eyes._ _

__“She turned three back in August,” Matt says._ _

__“Right,” Yuuri says. “Time flies so fast. Another ten years, and these kids will be competing in the Junior Grand Prix series. If they decide to keep skating, that is.”_ _

__Chris’ smile takes a mischievous turn. “You know what would be great? I’d like to see the Nikiforov-Giacometti rivalry continue in the future. Any chances of that happening?”_ _

__Yuuri feels a rush of heat rise to his face, heart racing in his chest. He and Victor have talked about this several times over the past few years, the possibility of having children in the future. They both want kids at some point – not right now, but within the next few years, when their lives are less hectic and more stable. There’s no way Chris could know about this; they haven’t told anyone about their plans, not even their own parents. Then again, Chris has always been oddly perceptive about these things--_ _

__“Who knows,” Victor says. He looks down at his glass as he speaks, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face, and his eyes are warm and soft. “Maybe, maybe not.”_ _

__“I, for one, would like to see it happen.” Chris looks Yuuri in the eye as he says this, the broad grin still on his face. Yuuri is starting to squirm in his seat, sweat gathering at his hairline._ _

__“You better not forget about the Chulanonts, Chris,” Phichit says. “Somsak has been skating for almost a year now. He’s already working on his single jumps. His waltz jump is massive.”_ _

__“Has Sawika expressed interest in the sport?” Chris asks._ _

__“Oh, you should see her,” Padma says. “She loves watching her brother skate and is always begging us to take her to the local rink. She’s a little too young to go skating, though.”_ _

__“We’ll see how she feels about it in a year or two,” Phichit says. “If she’s still into it, we’re going to let her start taking lessons.”_ _

__“Great.” Chris looks pleased. “The judges will be thrilled.”_ _

__The food that’s brought out looks delicious; steaming plates of seafood risotto, beef fillet, spaghetti bolognese, something different for each one of them. They take their time eating and drinking, more interested in catching up and entertaining the kids. The wine warms Yuuri’s blood; the constant chatter is music to his ears. It’s one of the best nights he’s had in a long time, filled with fun and laughter and joy. He feels much younger again, like no time has passed at all since they last saw each other._ _

__“That was so good,” Phichit says in a dreamy voice, slumped against the back of his chair. “I’m so full, I can’t eat another bite.”_ _

__“I still have room for dessert,” Padma says. “Does anyone else want anything?”_ _

__“Do you want dessert?” Victor asks Yuuri in Japanese, eyeing the menu. “We could share something, if you want.”_ _

__“Sure,” Yuuri replies in Russian. He leans in closer to Victor, reading the menu over his shoulder. “I’m in the mood for something sweet. Cake, maybe?”_ _

__“I can’t believe you two are still doing this,” Yuri says in Russian. He’s looking down at his phone, silky hair cascading around his face like a luxurious curtain. In many ways, he looks just like he did when he was fifteen; small and pale and delicate, only taller and stronger, his features more refined._ _

__“What’s the problem, Yura?” Victor asks, still speaking Japanese. “What are you talking about?” He’s in an excellent mood, smiling from ear to ear. Yuri snorts, thumbs tapping against the screen._ _

__“Who are you texting?” Victor asks, switching to Russian._ _

__“None of your business,” Yuri says, snarling._ _

__“Is it someone special?”_ _

__“Victor, I swear to God—“ Yuri begins, but then the waitress appears again. Yuuri lets out a soft breath._ _

__“We could make this an annual thing, you know,” Chris says. “Every year, we gather at someone’s house, have dinner, that sort of thing. We could take turns hosting the get-togethers at our homes.”_ _

__“Count me in,” Phichit says. “It’s been way too long since we last saw each other. We should try to get together more often.”_ _

__“Everyone is always welcome at our house,” Yuuri says. “In Russia and in Japan.”_ _

__“Rostelecom Cup will be held in St. Petersburg next year,” Victor says. “You guys should come for a visit. I’ll take care of the tickets.”_ _

__“Excellent,” Chris says. “We’ll bring Sophie with us. You can teach her a thing or two, Victor. Sophie would love that. She looks up to you, you know.”_ _

__“Sure. She’s always welcome to join the team.” Victor smiles at Sophie, and she buries her face in Matt’s arm with a smile on her face._ _

__There’s a slight lull in the conversation as the waitresses arrive with their desserts. The kids’ eyes light up at the sight of their ice cream sundaes, their voices loud and excited as they grab their spoons. Yuuri finds it all oddly endearing, even the way they devour the desserts, but at the same time, he’s glad he doesn’t have to clean up the mess they make._ _

__“You guys should come to Bangkok,” Phichit says to Yuuri. “Next summer, maybe? It’s been a while since your last visit.”_ _

__“I’ve been thinking,” Yuuri says and turns his head, blinking as Victor holds up a forkful of cake. Yuuri leans in closer, allows Victor to slip the fork into his mouth. The cheesecake melts on his tongue, smooth and rich and creamy, the taste lingering in his mouth even after he swallows the bite. The fragrance of Victor’s cologne is comforting and intoxicating all at once, a tempting scent that stirs Yuuri’s senses._ _

__Victor lowers the fork. His eyes flicker down to Yuuri’s mouth, then back to his eyes again, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He scoops up another forkful of cake. Yuuri puts his hand on the back of Victor’s chair. Their eyes find each other again, and then Victor’s bringing the fork closer to Yuuri’s mouth, slow and careful--_ _

__“Yuuri,” Yuri says, this time in English. “Speak.”_ _

__Yuuri turns his head. “Huh?”_ _

__“You didn’t finish your sentence,” Yuri says. “Annoying as hell.”_ _

__“What were we talking about?”_ _

__“About you coming to Bangkok.” Phichit’s smile is sweet and mischievous at the same time._ _

__“Right. That’s a good idea. We’ve been planning a trip for our ten-year wedding anniversary, anyway. What do you think, Vitya?”_ _

__“Thailand sounds great,” Victor says with a soft smile on his face and feeds Yuuri another piece of cake._ _

__After dessert, Yuuri feels sleepy and content, yawning into his hand as he tries to keep up with the conversations around him. He glances at his phone: 10:16 PM. They’ve been here for four hours. It doesn’t feel like it; time has flown by so fast._ _

__“I have to leave,” Yuri says, sitting up straighter in his seat. “I need a good night’s sleep before tomorrow’s free skate.”_ _

__“Tell Yakov I said hello, okay?” Victor says._ _

__“Why don’t you tell him yourself?” The corners of Yuri’s lips are twitching. “You know how much he loves hearing from you.”_ _

__“Maybe I will,” Victor says. “I’ll give him a call. Who knows, maybe I’ll bump into the old man at the rink tomorrow.”_ _

__“I think we’d better head back to the hotel, too,” Phichit says. He’s holding Sawika in his lap, her head propped against his shoulder, eyes half-lidded and unfocused. “It’s been a long day.”_ _

__“We’ll see each other tomorrow, right?” Yuuri says._ _

__“Sure,” Chris says, getting up from his chair. “Before the start of the competition. Around twelve-thirty?”_ _

__“I’d say around twelve.” Yuuri can feel the smile on his face, heartbeat strong and steady in his chest. “Might take a while before we get inside.”_ _


	2. Chapter 2

Yuuri is exhausted but happy when they get back to the hotel, ready to step into the shower. The hotel room is clean and comfortable, their luggage lined up neatly against the wall. 

The shower feels like heaven, hot water cascading down his body and washing away the stress of the day. Yuuri allows himself to enjoy the moment, head drooping and arms limp on his sides. He looks down at his stomach, then at his toes, curling them against the tiled floor. He’s been gaining weight the past few years, ever since he retired from the sport. It’s nothing to be worried about, just a few extra pounds here and there, his mid-section soft and flabby. Yuuri doesn’t really think about it that much, but tonight, it serves as a reminder of his aging body, the realization that he will never again be as athletic as he used to be hitting him hard.

He gets out of the shower and dries himself off with a fluffy white towel, pulls on a fresh pair of underwear. His hair is a damp mess, droplets of water dripping down his shoulders and chest. The steam from the shower hangs in the air, fogging up the mirror and his glasses. 

Yuuri walks out of the bathroom and over to his luggage. Victor is lounging on the bed, phone in hand, one leg bent and the other extended. The white bathrobe is loose on his shoulders, a hint of bare chest visible between the lapels, and Yuuri is twenty-four again, sharing the hotel room with Victor for the first time, his stomach stirring at this exact same sight. He lets his eyes linger, just for a moment, before turning back to his suitcase. 

He looks up to see Victor looking at him, almost coyly, almost invitingly. Their eyes meet from across the room, holding each other’s gaze for what feels like an eternity. The corners of Victor’s mouth quirk into a slight smile. He parts his legs, just a little, the sheets rustling under his body. Yuuri raises his eyebrows. Victor’s smile is sweet, almost innocent, but his eyes are dark, burning into Yuuri’s with an intensity that almost takes his breath away.

Victor sets his phone on the nightstand, eyes flickering away from Yuuri’s, then back again. Yuuri drops the clothes into the suitcase, and then he’s walking over to the bed and slipping into Victor’s awaiting arms, their lips meeting in an urgent kiss.

Being held by Victor feels like coming home after a long trip. It’s a comfort more than anything, the caress of his hands on Yuuri’s body, the warmth of his skin against his own. Yuuri smiles against Victor’s mouth, hums softly as Victor cups the back of his head with his hand, fingers threading through his hair, massaging his scalp. 

He sometimes misses the beginning of their relationship, the time when everything was new and exciting and his sexual appetite stronger. They’re both so busy now, working long and irregular hours, Victor going to the rink early in the morning and Yuuri not coming home until later in the evening. It’s not uncommon for them to go weeks without sex, frequent travels and packed schedules preventing them from spending time with each other. Blowjobs are quick and easy and usually not very messy; it’s Yuuri’s favorite sexual act, ideal after a long day of work. Yuuri is a fan of shower sex – anything that allows him to multitask, really, because time is not a luxury he has, not right now. 

Yuuri wriggles out of his boxers, kicks them aside. He sits up, straddling Victor’s thighs, holding his gaze. He thinks about the 23-year-old version of himself; a sexually inexperienced young man, struggling to grasp the concept of physical love. The idea feels so distant now, like a vague dream.

“Yuuri,” Victor says, a hint of impatience in his voice, and then Yuuri’s on top of him again, leaning down to kiss him. He lets Victor run his hands all over his body, lets him trace his fingers down his spine, hands palming his hips. Victor’s touch is like a warm breeze against his skin, his caresses soft and so full of love that it makes Yuuri’s heart ache. 

The bathrobe slips off Victor’s shoulders, exposing more skin, more of the body Yuuri knows as well as his own. Victor’s eyes stay locked with his, tempting and teasing and adoring all at once. His hair is splayed out across the pillow, soft and silky and radiant. And Yuuri can’t stop staring, stunned by the sight in front of him, unable to shake the feeling of déjà vu that’s been bothering him all day. Victor looks the same as he did ten years ago. Yuuri can see signs of aging, of course, the lines around Victor’s eyes and mouth deeper, his skin a little drier, but other than that, there’s hardly any difference, and it’s fascinating and unsettling at the same time, makes it hard to focus on anything else.

Yuuri sits up again, climbing from Victor’s lap. Victor gets up, his eyes never leaving Yuuri. Yuuri leans back against the headboard and spreads his legs.

“Watch me,” Yuuri says. Victor’s eyebrows shoot up. He does.

\--

Yuuri was right in predicting that their arrival at the arena wouldn’t go unnoticed. He feels like he’s a famous actor, surrounded by fans at a movie premiere. He’s standing beside Victor in the busy hallway, giving an interview to an American reporter. He can hear Chris’ voice behind him; he’s talking to another reporter, his native language rolling off his tongue in a smooth, silky manner. 

“Mr. Nikiforov,” the reporter is saying, microphone in hand, “what a surprise to see you here in Barcelona. We certainly weren’t expecting this.”

“I’m here privately,” Victor says with an easy smile on his face, his arm draped around Yuuri’s shoulders. “A romantic getaway with Yuuri, you see. We’re flying back to St. Petersburg tomorrow morning.”

“As we all know, none of your skaters made it to the Grand Prix Final this year,” the reporter says. “How does it feel to experience such a disappointment, with the Olympics just around the corner?”

“I’m very proud of my skaters,” Victor says. “They’ve been doing great so far this season. If anything, this gives us more time to get ready for the Olympics.”

“I’m assuming you’re keeping an eye on the top skaters here in Barcelona today,” the reporter says. 

“Sure. You always have to be aware of what your rivals are doing. It’s going to be a tough competition, the Olympics, that’s for sure.”

“Are you worried on behalf of your skaters? Plisetsky and Tsang look extremely strong this season. Not to mention all the others -- Wells, Yamashita—“ 

Victor’s smile changes into a more mischievous one. “I have full faith in my skaters’ abilities. I wouldn’t be taking a vacation two months before the Olympics if that wasn’t the case, now, would I?”

The reporter stares at him, mouth open, nothing coming out. Victor’s smile is wide and dazzling, his composure unwavering, impeccable. Yuuri has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Victor says. “The next two months are going to be busy. Russian Nationals, Europeans--”

“Of course,” the reporter says. “And we can’t wait to see what is going to happen. We wish your team good luck for the rest of the season.” He turns towards Yuuri, his back straight and head up, composure back under control. “Mr. Katsuki, you’ve been working as a sport psychologist since you retired from the sport. You must have been busy these past few months leading up to the Olympics.”

“Yes,” Yuuri says. “I’ve been working with athletes from all over the world. This will be the most important competition of their lives. Being able to cope with pressure and anxiety is extremely important here.”

“You’re an Olympic gold medalist yourself. Does this help you better understand your clients?”

“It’s definitely a big advantage, yes. I know exactly what they’re going through, what they’re feeling. It helps me decide where to focus my attention. It’s, ah. Not always easy, but I’ll do what I have to do.”

Victor pulls him closer, kisses the top of Yuuri’s head. Yuuri closes his eyes and smiles at the camera, his heart full and warm. 

“The last question is for both of you,” the reporter says. “Who do you think is going to win the Grand Prix Final today?”

“Yuri,” Victor and Yuuri say in perfect unison.

“Did you see him on Thursday?” Victor asks. “He just keeps getting better and better.”

“Plisetsky, of course,” the reporter says, smiling. “Thank you for taking the time to talk with us.” 

Yuuri’s stomach is full of butterflies by the time the warm-up group takes the ice, heart pounding at the sight of Yuri in his team jacket. He’s got nothing to worry about; Yuri looks calm and focused, his eyes narrowed as he lands a beautiful triple axel right in front of the judges, earning a thunderous applause from the crowd. It’s funny, Yuuri thinks, watching Yuri remove his jacket and hand it to Yakov, the two of them exchanging a few words before he takes off again. He can feel anxiety bubbling up inside him again, not as strong as it was ten years ago, but still unmistakable, uncomfortably familiar. 

Forty more minutes until it’s Yuri’s turn to skate. He’s skating last, right after his biggest rival, China’s Tsang. Yuuri chews his lower lip as the skaters clear the ice. He considers sending Yuri a message, then decides against it. Yakov wouldn’t let him use his phone, not right now.

Being with his friends and Victor makes the wait tolerable. They’re constantly whispering to each other, voicing their opinions about each performance. Yuuri is starting to realize how much he has missed hanging out with his friends. They used to do this all the time: the four of them huddling in their seats, completely absorbed in what’s happening on the ice.

And before Yuuri even realizes it, there are two skaters left. He focuses on breathing as Tsang glides over the ice, inhaling and exhaling in a slow, steady rhythm. He almost jumps when Victor put his hand on his knee, fingers splayed across the denim. The smell of his cologne wraps around Yuuri like a comforting blanket, his touch gentle and reassuring. Yuuri leans back in his seat, allows himself to relax.

Tsang’s programs are always impressive, and this one is no exception. Six quads, difficult transitions, great speed. He’s skating to a very powerful piece, and somehow, he pulls it off, despite being only 18 years old. 

“Look at that,” Victor says in a low voice, lips twitching into a slight smile as Tsang lands a textbook-perfect quad lutz triple toe, his signature move, the audience going wild. 

“It might have been a flutz,” Chris says. “He’s gotten edge calls on his lutz before, right?”

“I don’t think—“ Yuuri pauses when Tsang launches into a quad flip, landing with practiced ease.

“His spins are great, too,” Phichit says on Yuuri’s left. “Look how centered this one is.”

“I know,” Yuuri says. “That’s a difficult variation.”

The music changes to a slow, dramatic melody. The crowd holds its breath, completely enchanted, bursting into applause when Tsang lands a clean quad loop. 

“He’s fantastic.” Victor isn’t even trying to hide his smile anymore. “Great musicality. He’s improved a lot since last season. I’m impressed.”

The music picks up again, Tsang thundering down the rink. He lands quad after quad, all of them fully rotated and beautiful, save for one or two tight landings. Yuuri is almost relieved when Tsang finally launches himself into the step sequence, the tension in his shoulders easing away. 

“His step sequence is a little too slow,” Victor says. “He’s losing speed. That’s not a good sign.”

“He’s had stamina issues in the past, hasn’t he?” Phichit asks. 

“I think so,” Chris says. “I don’t blame him. I mean, you saw all those quads.”

“His edges are so deep,” Yuuri says. Yuri has to be absolutely perfect if he wants to win this competition.

Last two spins, and Tsang slides into his ending pose, drenched in sweat, gasping for air. 

“What a performance!” Phichit is smiling from ear to ear. “This is what I like to see!”

Yuuri isn’t really listening. His eyes are on Yuri, who has taken the ice. He circles the rink in long, fluid strides, landing another axel before skating back to Yakov. Yuri holds onto the boards with both hands, nodding as Yakov talks to him, face scrunched in concentration. 

Tsang’s score is high, dangerously close to the world record. Yuri nods once more and takes off, gliding over the ice as the announcer calls his name, the crowd going wild around Yuuri. He finds Victor’s hand, squeezes hard. Victor squeezes back, his palm warm against Yuuri’s skin, thumb brushing over his knuckles in a soothing caress.

Yuri is also planning six quads. His quad flip triple toe is massive, the landing feather-light, graceful. Yuuri can’t tear his eyes off him, is afraid to even blink. His shoulders are starting to ache from the tension, and he doesn’t even care, not now. 

“Look at him,” Chris says as Yuri lands a quad salchow, perfectly timed to the music. “He has grown so much as a skater and a performer.”

“He has always been good,” Phichit says. “Remember when he won his first senior Grand Prix?”

“Oh, how could I forget,” Chris says, but he’s smiling fondly, his eyes never leaving Yuri.

Yuuri is starting to relax, just slightly, but he’s still holding his breath as Yuri powers through his step sequence, each turn and twizzle smooth and powerful and deliberate. He has seen this step sequence dozens of times before, and he’s still impressed with Yuri’s footwork. Yuri feels the music with his whole body, his movements flowing with natural grace, and it makes him look very – grown up, Yuuri realizes, grown up and mature and sophisticated. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, but somehow, it does, and it makes his chest swell with pride, his eyes filling with happy tears.

It’s all happening way too fast. Before Yuuri even realizes it, Yuri comes out of his spin, takes off across the ice. Quad lutz triple loop. Quad flip. Triple axel quad toe triple loop. Perfect flow in and out, difficult transitions between each element. The crowd is on their feet before Yuri has even finished his final spin, waving flags and cheering so loudly Yuuri can’t even hear the music. 

“Oh, Yura,” Victor says. He’s applauding with the others, and his smile is genuine and warm. 

Yuuri is speechless. Yuri is standing on the ice with his hands on his hips, steadying his breath. He looks thrilled, pure joy written all over his face, and Yuuri – he still remembers. He still remembers. 

Yuri breaks the world record, of course. Not by a huge margin, but it’s just enough for him to move to first place. The crowd erupts once more as the results are announced, the announcer’s voice drowned out by the noise of the crowd. In the kiss and cry, Yuri leaps up from his seat, hands raised in triumph. The big screen shows a close-up of his face: eyes squeezed shut, nose scrunched up, mouth open in a victorious roar. 

Later, as the medalists are skating a victory lap around the ice, Yuri spots Yuuri in the crowd. Their eyes meet for a moment, and Yuri perks up a little, holding his gaze. He raises the bouquet of flowers he’s holding and gives Yuuri a nod, the smile wide and easy on his lips. There’s something humble about his demeanor, the way he lowers his head afterwards, hair falling around his face like a soft frame. Yuuri smiles and waves his hand, and then Yuri looks away, gliding past. 

“Ready to go?” Victor asks. His hand reaches for Yuuri’s, their fingers lacing together.

Yuuri takes a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

**Author's Note:**

> The second (and final) chapter will be up next week!


End file.
